


Brother Against Brother

by VideoGameImagines



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Civil War era, Gen, I've had this idea while playing all of the Assassin's Creed games, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 10:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6190495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VideoGameImagines/pseuds/VideoGameImagines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've had this idea in my head every time I play an Assassin's Creed game... This is an original story that takes place during the American Civil War. It involves an original character, Charlotte Wolfe, a young American Assassin in Virginia. The assassination target in this story is a historically accurate death... So I hope you enjoy it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brother Against Brother

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This story is a peak into a much larger story, so basically this chapter is from the middle of Charlotte's story. If you guys enjoy it I would be more than happy to start from the beginning and post the chapters that would come before this one. This is my first time posting an original work so I guess be gentle... I hope you enjoy it.

In an abandoned farmhouse not far from Chancellorsville, Virginia Charlotte stripped the young confederate soldier of his gray uniform and dragged his unconscious form toward a nearby pile of hay. The poor boy happened to be doing a sweep of the area when Charlotte attacked and debated whether or not to take his life but ultimately the creed that she upheld stayed her blade; at least that is what she told herself. Looking upon the young man’s face he couldn’t have been much older than she was and for all she knew he could have been an unwilling draftee; she rationalized against taking such a young and, to her mind, innocent life. More to her point the young man never saw her coming and never saw her face so there was little chance of compromising the brotherhood by letting him live. Charlotte adjusted the tawdry grey uniform over her form and was inherently thankful that the confederate soldier she “confiscated” said uniform from was roughly her size. Charlotte tightly wrapped her dark hair up and tucked it under her gray cap, wincing slightly at the discomfort of her securely bound chest.   
Before she left Charlotte made sure to once again properly tighten the bracers of her hidden blades and tuck them beneath the sleeve of her borrowed Confederate uniform, she checked her stock of carefully hidden throwing knives and smoke bombs, just in case her mission went awry. Charlotte grabbed the rifle that the young man dropped and left the barn to secure the young man’s horse. She securely fastened her assassin robes and extra weapons in the saddle bag and mounted the surprisingly calm mare; heading toward her destination.  
The Intel the young assassin received came from a reliable source and assured her that her target would be within Chancellorsville. The target shouldn’t be too difficult to find as death and destruction were always left in his wake; she could expect no less from such a cunning and battle worn adversary. Charlotte kept to the thick foliage of the outlying woods to avoid being spotted, even though it was getting dark there could yet be lingering soldiers poised to attack. After a short travel by way of horse she happened upon a company of soldiers that seemed to be scouting the battlefield ahead. Charlotte quickly dismounted from the horse and secured the reins to a nearby tree as she would rather not let her gear get away if the horse happened to get spooked.   
Creeping out of the tree line slowly Charlotte bit back the rising bile in her throat as she looked upon the battlefield littered with bodies of both confederate and union soldiers alike. This was exactly what her brotherhood was working against the senseless violence and the Templar hands that were no doubt pulling the strings. Templars… the very thought made her blood boil. The stench of Templar machinations was etched all over this war. The Templars had wormed their way into every aspect of this needless war from slave labor, factory work, even the leading ranks of the confederate army. This disgusting web of poisonous lies all led to one man, the man leading it all and the one man Charlotte had sworn to put an end to, Edgar Thomas. But she had a more pressing target to focus on and letting her blood boil over the southern Templar leader would not help her at this point.  
Charlotte silently and deftly made her way onto the darkened battlefield making sure to not draw the attention of the confederate soldiers ahead of her. She stopped in a small ditch and took a deep breath focusing her eagle vision on the crowd of soldiers in front of her. It was there at the top of the hill, a short distance away from his band of soldiers Charlotte found her target. There at the top of the hill surveying the battlefield was the famous General Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson. For such a brilliant tactician he was making it easy by separating himself from his men and scouting ahead. Charlotte had decided against a direct approach with her hidden blade and opted to use the rifle she carried on her back. She knew the workings of these rifles like the back of her hand as the brotherhood had seen to it to train her to the best of their ability. Charlotte was a damn good shot and could have the rifle reloaded in under a minute.   
With the rifle loaded Charlotte bent down and took her aim at the unsuspecting general she had her shot lined up toward his heart and as she took a breath and steadied her aim, that is when everything went to hell. Just as Charlotte was pulling the trigger Jackson turned toward his men misaligning Charlotte’s shot, the bullet lodging itself in his left hand. Before Stonewall could register the pain and quickly as she could Charlotte ducked down and began reloading her rifle. When her gun was loaded again Charlotte popped back up and took aim; it was chaos as Stonewall’s men rushed towards him and he nearly doubled over in pain. Through the chaos Charlotte held her breath and once again took aim at Stonewall’s heart and fired. This time Stonewall fell to the ground with his men surrounding him screaming to find where the gunfire came from and to get a stretcher.   
Charlotte took this as her cue to leave and made of into the tree line to find her horse but as she mounted her horse and was about to take off something inside of her screamed to turn around. She had missed that first shot and something inside screamed that her mission wasn’t over. On horseback she quietly followed the shouts of the confederate soldiers back to their camp and watched as Stonewall Jackson was loaded into and pulled away by a horse-drawn carriage. Charlotte was filled with rage at the prospect that her target could have slipped from her grasp. How could she have been so careless? Perhaps the brotherhood was right perhaps she was too young to be taking on missions by herself but she was one of their best and had been training for years. Nevertheless, Charlotte needed to make sure her target was dead and see to it that her mission was completed.   
Charlotte noticed one of the confederate soldiers that had previously loaded Stonewall into the carriage walking toward the edges of the camp alone and isolated; the perfect target. Charlotte silently crept up behind the soldier effectively clamping a hand over his mouth, in the man’s state of surprise Charlotte was able to overpower him and drag him toward the densely wooded area. Charlotte slammed the man against a tree, with one hand clamped over his mouth she her flicked her hidden blade out and placed it against the soldier’s throat.  
“When I remove my hand, you are going to answer all of my questions and you will not scream or it will be the last thing you do. Do you understand?” Charlotte harshly barked at the man and pressed her hidden blade toward his throat for added emphasis. The nodded man vigorously, in a way that would have been almost comical had Charlotte not been so enraged, with a sigh she removed her hand from his mouth, “Good. Now tell me is General Jackson dead?”  
Without the presence of Charlotte’s hand the soldier gasped, “No… General Stonewall yet lives but there was so much blood. You’re not a soldier are you? Christ, you’re not even a man… who are you?”  
With more force than might have been necessary Charlotte shoved her knee between his legs which would have sent him toppling over in pain had she not been holding him against a tree. Charlotte bit back a laugh, “No I’m not a man but I certainly know how to bring one to his knees. Now where are they taking Stonewall?”  
The soldier coughed and gritted his teeth, “They rambled on about taking him to Guiney’s Station for treatment. That’s all I know, I swear. Just let me go.”  
Guiney’s Station? Charlotte knew the place well, it was near Caroline County and there was a small building being used as a makeshift hospital. Charlotte laughed to herself, the confederates probably thought the union army might come sniffing around for Stonewall and thought that Guiney’s Station could be a safe place. The union army was the least of their worries not when Charlotte still had a target to assassinate. But first she had another problem to deal with, the man she had pinned to the tree in front of her. Charlotte sighed quietly, “I’m sorry.”  
Before the man could question her again Charlotte brutally stabbed her hidden blade into the soldier’s neck letting him pass quickly and relatively pain free. She retracted her hidden blade and let the man’s body slump to the woodland floor. Charlotte found her horse and saddled up beginning the journey toward Guiney’s Station under the cover of night.  
Along the way to Guiney’s Station Charlotte stopped in a safe house with a family known to be friendly to the Brotherhood. While she was there she briefly rested and changed back into her assassin’s robes before she left she thanked the family for their hospitality and discretion. By the very early hours of the morning, of May 10th, 1863, Charlotte found her way to the ward that was housing Stonewall Jackson. She deftly crept to the back door of the building and using her eagle vision she confirmed that there was only one guard actually guarding the back entrance. She quickly dispatched him with a flick of her hidden blade and hid his body in a nearby bush. Opening the door she crept into the awaiting hallway but the sound of soft approaching footsteps caused her to duck into the nearest room.  
It just so happened that Charlotte found herself in a linen closet that held various clean bed dressings, cloths, bandages, and extra uniforms for the attending female nurses. Charlotte smiled at her good fortune and nicked one of the extra uniforms slipping it over her tailored assassin robes. By some miracle the sleeves of the gown were long enough to cover her bracers and hidden blades. Upon exiting the closet Charlotte quietly passed one of the makeshift sick wards and happened to catch some of the nurses whispering about the misfortune of General Jackson and even heard that he was being held on the upper floor. As she made her way toward the secluded staircase Charlotte grabbed a water pitcher and a pile of linens so that to anyone passing by she would look like she had a purpose for wandering the halls.   
General Jackson’s room was easy to find and in the early hours of the morning it was devoid of any other life, she placed the pitcher of water and linens on a nearby table and approached the bed. As Charlotte approached General Jackson she had noticed that his left arm had been amputated meaning she had missed his heart when she shot him. The right side of his body looked sickeningly discolored and Charlotte deduced that he may have been bleeding internally. She intended to make his end quick and quiet but as she approached her target her hoarsely cried out what she recognized as battlefield orders, most likely meant for his soldiers. The poor man must have been hallucinating but when his eyes settled on her he came back to himself.  
He softly called out, “Who are you? Are you my nurse?”  
Quietly Charlotte came to his side and replied, “No I am not but I will end your suffering and finish what I started those few nights ago.”  
At the flick of her wrist the hidden blade unsheathed itself and Stonewall’s eyes widened, “It was you that shot me… but why? Are you with the union? They sent a woman in their place to do their work for them?”  
Charlotte hid her distaste, “No I work for a cause that would see the cause you’ve aligned yourself with torn down. You have been working with a man, Edgar Thomas, and for what? You have sought to tear this nation apart and you would pit brother against brother for your own petty greed and gain.”  
At her words some life returned to Stonewall, “I did what I had to do. The outcome may have been bloody but Edgar Thomas promised it was for the betterment of our world. The way he spoke it’s as if he had cast a spell upon us all. Everything he spoke made so much sense and there was no room for argument. It’s as if his thoughts became our own.”  
The more that Stonewall spoke the more Charlotte’s mind began to spin he spoke of an almost bewitchment and this was something that Charlotte had heard of before, read about in fact. The Pieces of Eden had the power to control the minds of those around them and if Edgar Thomas, a Templar Grandmaster, was in possession of one the situation was more dire than she had anticipated.  
Charlotte was snapped from her ruminations when Stonewall spoke up once more, “Do what it is you came here for assassin. Time is short for me and I have already made my peace with God.”  
Charlotte looked him in the eye and spoke, “For the sake of your soul I hope you have. I leave your judgement in God’s hands.”  
With that final word Charlotte quickly stabbed her hidden blade into Stonewall’s neck, closing his eyes and saying a brief prayer for him before agilely hopping out of the window and onto the ground below. Charlotte made a beeline out of sight and headed full force back to her Brotherhood’s hideout. If Edgar Thomas truly did have a Piece of Eden then this was going to be a harder battle and an even more difficult war to end.


End file.
